Keep Out the Chill
by WonderlandSyndrome
Summary: AU: May you have warm words on a cold evening and a full moon on a dark night. - LexZex One-Shot. - Bohemian-verse.


This is just a little story that I was killing boredom with. I must admit; sometimes I like picturing these two as a working-class couple trying to make ends meet. I think it's quite endearing. The inspiration for this drab? It's cold in my house ^_^

**Characters/Pairings: **Lexaeus-X-Zexion. **Location: **Radiant Garden.

**Ratings/Warnings: **K+/PG - Homosexual relationship, AU.

**Story Music: **_I'll Cover You _by Jonathan Larson.

* * *

The winters are always trying. Always have been, always will be. It is the emptiness of the loft which is terrible. It's not insulated properly and too airy. The cold just lingering around you like a ghost, an unwelcome odourless smell as Zexion would often call it. You know it's there but it will not go away with a simple wave on the hand. Even with the heaters on full blast and with many layers of clothing clinging to his slim frame, the boy is still shivering. He is even wearing woollen gloves over his digits, but they are still cold like melting ice-water.

The bitter wind outside is whistling and rattling on the window frames, forcing its way in, so Zexion has to get a roll of brown parcel tape from the bits-and-bobs drawer in the kitchenette area of the wide room and begins the task of taping over the gaps between the frames and the large windows. It's a waste of tape in a way, and the residue of it ruins the black paint of the window frames, but it will do. They don't have the munny to have the whole lot of windows replaced and refitted, nor does the landlord want to pay for it out of his own pocket. Keeping the place together with tape and glue is the only method they have.

With the wind forced outside, the whistling and draft stops but the temperature is still low. Not negative but low. With a sigh, Zexion can faintly see his breath, and he returns to the sofa. Spread across the coffee table are the receipts and bills of the past few mouths, along with notes, back statements and the fat, buzzing laptop baring spreadsheets and the details of the joint-account they have been sharing for the past few years.

Zexion's pale lips purse into a long, white line. The numbers are not in their favour. Yet again. Another woe of winter; more heating and hot water means more munny down the drain. They are still in the blank - just - but they have to tighten the metaphorical financial belt another notch again.

Dropping his pen onto the table again, Zexion decides that a cup of tea may do him some good. Yes, a nice, warm cup of tea will do the trick quite nicely. It may get rid of the chill from his body for awhile. He walks over to the kitchenette counter and ransacks the place for the tea things - cup, spoon, teabags, milk - and just before he begins to fill the electric kettle with water, the buzzer at the door sounds. He puts the tea on hold and goes to pick up the phone.

"Who is it?"

"It's Santa Claus, here to wish you a merry ruddy Christmas, little boy."

Zexion chuckles, smiling at the familiar voice. It must be familiar to him, seeing as though he hears it all the time.

"I'll let you in, Lexaeus." He presses the right button, making another buzzer sound, this time short and more direct.

"Thanks, Zex."

The boy puts the receiver down and decides to make two cuppas. It's snowing heavily, and it's ghastly out there. His old partner will be freezing. As he brews the tea and adds the milk and sugar (only a splash for Lexaeus and no lumps, while Zexion has two) the loft's room slides open and Lexaeus comes in. His scarf is tight around his neck and over the bottom half of his face, his hat pulled down over his ears, his identity hidden under wool. Closing the door again, he tugs the scarf down and he reveals his red cheeks and his short of breath. He dumps the paper bag of groceries onto the island counter they use for a dining table and Zexion smiles at him.

"Cold enough for you?"

"It's really coming down now." Lexaeus shrugs his outdoor coat off but leaves his jumpers on. "I don't think you will believe me but compared with the weather out there, in here it's warm."

"You poor thing." Zexion pulls himself away long enough from the tea to kiss his lover on his cold-nipped cheek. "You need a cup of tea."

"That sounds heavenly at the moment. Thank you." Putting the groceries away into the cupboards and refrigerator, Lexaeus finds the extra packet of bacon with the one he paid for. "Demyx did it again."

"Again?" Zexion shakes his head with a tired groan. "What is that boy doing? Did you check while he was packing the bag?"

"He must have done it without me looking" Lexaeus shrugs. "The boy is putting his own wage back into the till again for many people; not just us. He gave Vexen a free jar of coffee last week, and Larxene got a two extra tins of chicken-mushroom soup."

"He's being foolish. He doesn't need to keep giving out charity while he is in need of it himself. That grocer-boy needs to pay his own rent before he does anything like this."

"He means well, Zexion."

"I know. It's just silly, is all." The second cup is slid over the countertop towards the man, pushes by a small, gloved hand. "Here you go."

"Thanks, dear." Lexaeus takes a big drink of the tea straight away, the warm mixture travelling down his throat. He takes his mug over to the fading, batted sofa and sits himself onto the too-soft cushions. He looks over the papers and the spreadsheets and frowns a little. He picks up one of the bank statements and skims through the words and banker's jargon. "It's getting tight again. Isn't it?"

"Isn't it always?" Zexion takes his seat again, pulling the laptop closer. It's overheating already, the fan whizzing with the effect to keep running. "It's always bad when it gets close to Christmas. We still haven't gone gift-shopping and we might be struggling."

"Hmm."

"I was thinking about taking up extra hours at the café. You know, until we get over this hump."

"What about night school?"

"Don't worry about that. I won't over do it. Besides, with the holidays coming up, lessons will be stopped until after New Year's… Do you think you will be able to get an extra shift at the bookstore?"

"Maybe. I'm already working there most of the time. I might be able to get an extra couple of hours squeeze in my normal shift… It's not much of a difference but it's something, right?"

"I think it will make a difference. Sure, not a big, life-changing one but every little helps."

"True."

The boy yawns loudly, covering his mouth with his hand. "I'm calling it a day with this." He turns off the laptop, and starts to put of the papers back into their right labelled folders. Lexaeus helps him. "Who's turn is it to cook dinner?"

"Mine. Remember, you made fish and chips yesterday."

"Oh, yeah."

"I'll heat up that left-over pasta. I'll make it nice again."

"I'll help."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's no problem."

"Thank you."

- - - - -

The pasta was salvaged nicely with some sauce and melted cheese on top. It was nice if not a little greasy, thanks to the gorgonzola and cheddar, but they ate it all up. Now that night-time is rolling in, it's getting colder. Lexaeus pulls out the spare blankets from the storage closet and they sit together on the sofa, watching the television. Zexion gets a little bored after awhile and started to play with his partner's curly hair. Lexaeus smiles and laughs under his breath. He detangles the small hand from his tresses and gives it a kiss through the glove.

"What are you trying to do?"

"I wasn't doing anything bad." Zexion rests his head against the broad chest, pulling the blanket tighter around him. "…What time is it?"

"Late. Time for little boys and girls to be in bed I think."

"Good thing I'm not a little kid then."

Lexaeus chuckles again and kisses his lover's crown. He rubs his arm gently and runs his fingers through his hair. "Well then, my not-so-little one. What will you do then?"

"Hmm. I don't know. I rather have the urge to do this." And with the artful movements of a cat, he swings his legs around and hops into the man's lap. His hands hook around the back of his head, and he pulls his beau in for a kiss, his soft, pale lips brushing and moistening the man's lower one. Lexaeus closes his eyes and suddenly pulls Zexion flush up against his body, his palms and fingers travelling up and down the young body in his embrace.

He turns them around and slowly, careful, pushes himself forwards, to turn pushing Zexion on to his back surrounded by the cushions and the blankets. The boy, moaning happily under the warm body, shifts slightly and hooks his leg around his waist. This is better. This is nice and warm, cosy even. After all, it's a winter's evening, just the two of them. Those types of situations are meant to be cosy.

Lexaeus moves his lips from Zexion's, to the crook of his neck and as he starts the coax little chuckles and moans from his darling… everything goes black. The overhead lights turn off in a flash, the documentary they stopped watching disappears from the tiny TV screen, and everything is cased into shadows and moonlight. The men blink and look around, their eyes adjusting to the darkness. Then with a tired, slightly irritated sigh, Lexaeus gets off Zexion and the couch completely.

"Not again." He fetches the working flashlight from the utility drawer and goes over to the fuse box in the corner. He casts his gaze over the wires but there's nothing he can do. "Everything looks fine."

"The generator then?" With a blanket around him, Zexion goes over to the radiators and presses his hand against them in turn. They are getting cold by the second. "The boiler?"

"Bloody hell." Lexaeus sounds angry, pissed-off even which is perfectly understandable. He storms out of the loft and down the hallway toward the stairwell. "The third time in two months. This building is going to the dogs…" His voice fades away, and Zexion is left alone standing in the cold loft. He can't help be feel a little sorry for Lexaeus.

The man has often talk about moving out of this building, to one of the new, nicer-looking flats uptown. It's just wishful thinking; they just don't have the munny for that at the moment. The boy gets the matches out of the top cupboard and starts to light the candles along the windowsill - all the tea candles and the scented ones until the room is filled with a dull, yellowed glow and a odd mix of spiced apple and lavender.

With that gone, he sits himself down on the couch, bundled up like a sick old lady under the comforters. The cold is getting bad again, worse even. Damn this… Well, it's better then the place Zexion used to live on, before he started dating Lexaeus. His old flat used to be tiny and dingy, quite depressing in fact. He was glad to get out of there at last, and into his best friend Lexaeus' home, bed and arms no less. Things worked out for the somewhat better.

The heavy door slide open and Lexaeus comes back in, still bitter and he is dragging a clean but rusted fire-proof trashcan behind him, filled with old newspapers and coal lumps.

"Everyone is down there complaining." He places the bin in front of the sofa and takes the matches from the table. "The landlord is getting someone in to fix the boiler and electric tomorrow but for now, we are going coal." He throws a lit match into the bin and the contents is inflame in a second, startling Zexion with the speed.

"…Isn't this illegal?"

"I don't want you to freeze" Lexaeus tells him, still annoyed and angry so Zexion doesn't argue. He just stays quiet like a good partner and snuggles up against the man's side as they sit down again, his arms around his waist. Maybe that will cheer him up. A muscular arm wraps around his body, hugging him again so he must be going something right.

"…I'm not angry at you, by the way" Lexaeus mumbles softly, pulling the blankets around his lover so he is tucked up properly. Zexion just smiles weakly and gave him a pat on the chest in a thankful manner.

"I know, sweetheart. Don't worry about it." He yawns again, closing his eyes. His ear can hear Lexaeus' deep heartbeat. "Don't worry about… me…"

"But I like fussing over you," Lexaeus chuckles. He feels far more better now. I doesn't matter about the heating or the lighting. As long as they were both warm and comfortable. If it happened before, it will happen again. Every time the heat is gone, they will just stay together and keep warm. They make do. The moon outside is totally white, round like a pearl. It's amazing. "…Look at that moon, Zexion… Zexion?" He looks down and sees that his young lover has fallen asleep. He chuckles lightly at him. "Is it too late for you now, little boy?"

Smiling, he throws a old magazine off the floor into the fire, making it crackle and its flame leap into the air. As Lexaeus presses his lips against Zexion's scalp, smelling his clean scent, the boy mumbles, feeling content and safe and a little warmer. Just a little bit.


End file.
